To the Ends of the Earth
by the newest cullen
Summary: Alice and Jasper are happily planning their wedding when everything changes. Accused of a crime he didn't commit, the young couple must battle the city's most powerful family. A story of fighting impossible odds to save the one you love.
1. Prologue

As a child, big poofy dresses and romantic "I do's" were prominent features in my dreams.

I had the day perfectly planned by the time I was nine. I would have a strapless yet traditional wedding gown with an eye length veil. I would leave my short hair down, but curled with a diamond or two woven in, though I wasn't sure how exactly one did that. I would be married in a small, intimate crowd of my closest friends and family. Afterwards, we would celebrate in a lavish reception with an eight layered cake. I would insist on a honeymoon in the tropics.

It was silly, it was idealistic. Until I was twenty five, I saw no reason why it shouldn't happen.

What I got was very different.

The day of my wedding, nothing went as planned. I had my traditional dress and veil, and my hair was curled just right. It would certainly be a small crowd, but it would be far from the loving atmosphere I had dreamed of. The reception would probably consist of more strategy meetings and then me, alone, curled up in a lonely apartament. There would be no honeymoon.

I dressed quietly, quickly, and alone. The wedding party arrived right on time to pick me up.

My brother Emmett helped me into the car, where I sat beside his wife and my best friend Rosalie. None of us spoke.

The Jeep rumbled to a stop in front of the courthouse, where lounging reporters immediately stood at attention, camera's flying up and pointing right at me.

"Are you ready?" Emmett twisted around and looked at me with his compassionate eyes, and I choked up.

I swallowed the tears and nodded. "As I'll ever be."

I took a deep breath and stepped out of the car.

Immediately, the world erupted into chaos. Lights flashing, screaming people in all directions, and the constant, constant staring.

"Miss Cullen! Miss Cullen! Why the wedding dress?"

"Miss Cullen! Is this some sort of plea to the jury?"

"Miss Cullen! Do you think your fiance will be found guilty?"

Pressure built in my chest as I bit back a scream. This was never, ever, how it was supposed to be.


	2. Sass and Sensibility

"JASPER!" I hollered down the hall. "Hurry up, babe, you're gonna be late!"

I turned my head back to the stove and cursed. Jesus Lord, I looked away for ten seconds and the eggs started to burn. I switched off the heat and slid them onto a plate before any more damage could be done.

Feeling very domestic, I added some fruit and a cup of my famous Seattle coffee. Grabbing my almost identical plate, I settled cross legged into a chair and dug in as my fiance's (I LOVED using that word) footsteps thundered down the hall.

"Did I leave my coffee in the bathroom? Aw, whatever I don't have time to-" A slow, easy grin spread over his face. "Have I told you yet this morning that I love you?" Jazz ruffled my already disastrous hair as he threw himself into the chair opposite me.

"I don't think so," I quipped through a mouthful of heavenly scrambled eggs. "It's a good thing the woman from the diner gave me that recipe."

He laughed that irresistible laugh that always made me smile. "Or you harassed her into it."

"Mmmm, Ma and Pa's," I sighed. "We should go back as an engagement celebration."

Ma and Pa's was a random diner in Philadelphia where on a rainy Thursday morning, I met Jasper Whitlock, the love of my short life.

* * *

I was a psychology student at the University of Pennsylvania, working on an intense term paper about PTSD throughout history. I had never been interested in historic events, just the people behind them and their motivations. My mom loved to tell the story of the time my dad tried to explain Thanksgiving to me. Emmett, my big brother, wanted to know what the Pilgrims ate. I just wanted to know why. Why everything.

My professor had suggested that I meet with another student in a coincidental situation. A history major that was researching the psychological effects of the Civil War. We exchanged a few emails and had agreed to meet at a diner near the Free Library.

It was the kind of rainy day that demanded movies and hot chocolate and sleeping all day. I had reluctantly lugged all my notes down and was going over them so I would be prepared for what would hopefully be a short meeting. I had a date with a guy I had met at a party the night before, and I wasn't planning on missing it.

A half an hour had passed while I drank cheap coffee and impatiently kicked the bar stool. I hated being kept waiting. Back in those days I was constantly moving, a restless, impatient soul that flitted around without getting attached.

I was at my wits end and about to just walk out when the bell finally rang from behind me. I whirled around and prepared to give this Jasper Whitlock a piece of my very pissed off mind.

He was shaking out an umbrella when I strode up to him, barely noticing how his long, lean frame towered over me. In my irritation, I missed the way his blue eyes crinkled when he smiled his easy smile and the way his damp blond hair stuck to his freckled forehead.

"Are you Alice Cullen?" he asked, extending a hand. I slipped my hand into his, failing to recognize the jolt that passed through me at his touch or the way his hand perfectly cradled mine.

I snorted. "Of course I am. You've kept me waiting a long time, Jasper Whitlock."

His smile twisted the slightest bit and he started to look more amused than friendly. "I'm sorry, ma'am," he said, oozing southern-boy-charm. "I must have mistaken the meeting time. I thought you said 9:30."

Suddenly feeling very stupid, I whipped my phone out of my pocket and checked the calendar. Shining as an example of my idiocy was the notice for an appointment with Jasper Whitlock at 9:30 this morning.

I blushed and looked up at him. "Oh, God, I've been so rude. I'm so sorry, Jasper..." I trailed off, suddenly seeing the things I overlooked.

In hindsight, I don't know how that was possible.

He laughed good natured and shrugged. "It happens to the best of us, I guess. Now where have you been sitting?"

We spent the whole day at that diner counter, having countless cups of the watery coffee and at least three plates of their amazing scrambled eggs a piece. Laughing about my overreaction, he nicknamed me Sass. I retorted with Mr. Sensibility. That led to a discussion of books, which led to so much more. Conversation ranged from our term papers to our childhood memories as we sought to get into each other's heads.

Jasper made me feel like I was coming home after an endless day. In his presence, my nervous energy evaporated and I laughed freely and smiled even more. By the end of the day, I had canceled my date with the frat brat and found who I was sure was my soul mate.

* * *

He nodded. "It'll be our big event spot. Engagement, after we get married, when we have kids."

As always, I got tingles when Jasper talked about our future.

We ate quickly and in silence, following our well established breakfast rhythm of salt shaker tosses and swiping fruit from each others plates.

My CrackBerry chirped, reminding me that 'El Fiance' needed to be out the door and that I needed to get ready for work. I was a neurotic planner, but it was kind of necessary. Jasper was a lackadaisical, take life as it comes type.

Like clockwork, Jazz grabbed the plates and washed them while I stuck a messily but lovingly prepared lunch into his briefcase. After learning how to make the signature scrambled eggs, I had bought almost every cookbook I could find and tried a new recipe every day for our lunches. It was silly and stereotypical wife-ish, but it was fun. Besides, I would be a wife soon enough, so I really should practice. Or at least, that was how I justified the sixteen cookbooks in a shopping bag to a hysterically laughing fiance.

Pausing at the door, just a few steps away from the kitchen in our tiny apartament, Jasper scooped me up and spun me around, laughing. "I will see you back here at six on the dot," he promised.

I leaned in to give him a soft kiss. "I'll be counting the minutes." The throwaway kiss turned into a long, slow one that would have made me collapse if Jasper wasn't already holding me. But it had to end, grownup life awaited and was trying to tear apart our happy Tuesday morning bubble.

I watched him walk down the hall to the elevator. "Love you, Alice!" he called as he stepped in.

"Love you too, Jazz!" I shut the door with a grin.

The stupid CrackBerry chirped again. I cursed and sprinted down the hall to get ready for work.

I loved my job, but it certainly took a lot out of me. I was a child psychologist and worked mostly with abused and displaced children. Their sad little eyes and reluctant, forced smiles broke my heart, but filled it just as easily when I saw them let go and play for the first time. I was considered by most to be a perpetually happy person, and most could never understand why I worked such a sad job.

On the other hand, our friends had no problem seeing how Jasper could be a history professor. After we moved to New York, he easily got a job teaching American History at NYU. Being younger, he easily connected with the students, but they gave him the utmost respect when they saw how deeply he cared about the subject.

I slipped on a silvery, cap sleeved shift dress and my favorite pair of black heels, put on a little makeup, and darted out to gather my stuff. In the hallway, I stopped to look at one of the many framed pictures of Jasper and me. It was taken about five months after we started dating, near the end of our sophomore years, clad in college student sweats. We were sitting on the beat up couch he and his roommate shared, me between his long legs and he leaning against the armrest. His hands were tangled in my short, dark hair and I was running my fingers up and down his calf as we listened to an iPod. Our eyes were closed, but we wore matching relaxed and blissed out expressions.

Smiling to myself, I skipped down the hall.

Checking my bag to make sure I hadn't left any papers strewn about the apartment, I buttoned up my dark, feminine trench coat and made it out the door just as the phone beeped. I embarrassed myself with a quick, celebratory Breakfast-Club-style fist pump and blushing, made my way to the elevator.

* * *

After a trying bus ride, I arrived safely if stressed out at work. The old fashioned stone walls of the office promised a safe haven from the crowded downtown sidewalks and entered, relaxing with each step I took.

"Hey Billy," I greeted the security guard as I swiped my ID.

Billy, the old, Native American head of security shone the full force of his wrinkly smile on me. "Well, hi, Miss Alice. How is my lovely young lady on this fine morning?"

He was such a sweetheart. Billy always had a kind word and a reassuring smile for me, even on the worst of days. He was forgiving if I snapped at him on a horrible evening, and always there if I needed to cry after a heartbreaking case. In thanks, I had brought him a coffee and bagel every morning for the two years I had worked in the building.

"I'm doing just fine," I replied. "How's Jake and the grandkiddies?"

At the mentioned of his beloved only son, he lit up. "Lookin' more and more like their grandpa every day. 'Specially my namesake."

"Well, tell them I said hi and that they better get their awesome grandpa something good for his birthday next week," I said slyly, handing him his breakfast. "I'll see you later, Billy. Have a great day!"

"Thanks, Alice! Don't work too hard!"

I laughed to myself as I stepped into the elevator, morning stress forgotten.

Stepping out onto my floor, I scanned the waiting room for any familiar faces. I found three.

"Miss Alice! Miss Alice!" Three adorable little blonde girls came shrieking towards me.

I dropped down and opened my arms wide as they barreled into me. "Hey girls!"

Tanya, Kate, and Irina were my first case. They came to me as quiet, withdrawn five year olds, and through a lot of hard work, I had coaxed them out of their shells. They were triplets, and they were absolutely beautiful little girls. They had deep, ice blue eyes and the bone structure and natural grace that would make any dancer cry. They also had inherited their poor mother's gorgeous blonde curls.

Natasha Denali immigrated from Russia as a barely legal adult. She lived the American dream, struggling through night classes while working all day. After graduating and finding a job as a nurse, she married a doctor that worked at the hospital, Garrett. A year later, the triplets were born. For the first years of their life, they lived idyllic childhoods, characterized by parents who adored them. Natasha became pregnant again, and the whole family was in high hopes. Until the baby was stillborn. Natasha was wracked with grief and basically, for lack of a better word, went insane. On a tragic night, she shot her beloved husband and would have shot her girls unless a neighbor called the police in the nick of time. The girls' lives were saved, but they weren't saved the horror of watching their mother and father die right in front of their eyes.

I worked slowly with them, and in the two years I had seen them weekly, I fell in love with them. They were the most engaging, mature little people and I grew almost inappropriately attached as I watched them move from foster home to foster home. Jasper and I had considered adopting them at one point, but the courts hesitated because we were young and unmarried. For now, I settled for seeing them once a week and giving them all the love I could manage.

We linked hands and I towed them down to my office in a cloud of boasting and high pitched chatter about their week at school and ballet. I thought back to Jasper's comment about kids this morning, and decided that if I ever had a little girl, if she was even an inkling like the Denali triplets, she would be a hell of a girl.

* * *

Well, that's the first chapter! I bet it didn't go in the direction you expected, haha :]

Thanks so much for reading. I'm working on chapter two now, and it dives right into the action.


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